Lean on Me
by DatHeetJoella
Summary: Haruka didn't get sick often, but when he did, he got really sick. Luckily for him, Makoto's always there to take care of him. Written for MakoHaru week 2016, Day 3: Favourite Headcanon


**A/N: A couple of months ago, I received an anonymous message on Tumblr asking me if I take fic requests. The request this person had was "MakoHaru where Haru is sick or hurt and Makoto takes care of him". Because I was a little busy at the time, I said I would write the fic when I had more time on my hands. So when MakoHaru week was announced, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to write this fic. It's a litte late because I spent some time working on another project that I'm very excited about and hope to share with you soon. But that's for another day.**

 **Although this fic is for the "favourite" headcanon prompt, it's more like dozens of tiny headcanons under the veil of one overlapping headcanon.**

 **Anyway, I hope you'll all be able to enjoy this fic, especially the person who requested it (if they're still following me, that is.)**

 **TW: mention of blood, but it's really small and shouldn't be too triggering.**

 **Please enjoy! ^^**

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The moment Haruka tried to open his eyes they immediately squeezed shut again, a sharp pain shooting through his head at the attempt. He turned to his left side, away from the striking light that was shining through the blinds of their bedroom window.

Slowly he regained consciousness and the more he did, the more he wished he hadn't. His head was pounding harshly, his nose was so stuffed he couldn't breathe properly through it, his throat hurt and swallowing transferred some of that pain to his ears, and cold sweat covered his pale skin, making the oversized shirt he was wearing stick to his back. Basically his whole body ached.

This shouldn't have been a surprise, honestly. He should have been expecting this. Makoto had warned him countless of times, scolded him countless of times, and yet he had refused to listen.

"Geez, you really need to dry your hair properly, Haru! What if you get a cold?" was what Makoto always said whenever he came home after swim practice with his hair varying from damp to dripping wet.

"I won't. You worry too much," Haruka would dismiss, but Makoto would never have any of it. By now Makoto was so used to it, he would have a towel ready for him when he arrived.

Makoto had been right. This time, Makoto's worry was not unjustified. After practice yesterday he hadn't dried his hair much and the cool autumn breeze was pleasantly blowing through his hair as he made his way back to their apartment. But the combination of his wet hair and the wind was what made him vulnerable enough to catch a cold and the fact that his hair wasn't dried when he came home either was what made him sick. It wasn't Makoto's fault, though, and Haruka certainly didn't blame him - he didn't have anyone to blame but himself. He found Makoto sound asleep on top of his books and notes yesterday, having dozed off while he was studying for a big test that was coming up, a pen in his weak grip and his glasses askew on his nose. Despite how busy Makoto was, with worrying about his test and working hard to ensure he wouldn't fail besides all of his other school work, he still thought about Haruka, as a neatly folded towel laid on the other side of the table. Stubbornly he had left it there and went to prepare dinner and when he woke up Makoto as soon as he was done, he had received a variation of the same well-intended lecture he always got. Again he had dismissed his boyfriend's concern in a mildly annoyed manner, and now he was left to face the consequences.

Though there was nothing he could change about what happened and therefore it would be useless to regret his actions, he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for being annoyed with Makoto. Haruka knew Makoto meant it well and he had worried rightfully so. There was nothing he could do about it now, save for apologise maybe.

A shiver ran down his spine. It was toasty beneath the duvet - which Makoto hadn't hogged for once - yet Haruka didn't feel any of it; he felt like he was freezing, with the sweat coating his clammy skin. Through squinted eyes he peered at the expanse of Makoto's wide, bare back. Even though he easily got cold, Makoto always emitted such warmth and right now, that made his back even more inviting than it usually was.

Unable to resist the temptation of being warmed by his lover's body, Haruka grabbed his pillow and scooted closer to Makoto, the movement sending another painful throb through his head. He wrapped his arms around Makoto's waist and pressed himself against him, intertwining their legs and resting his forehead between Makoto's shoulder blades. Puffs of air escaped his chapped lips and hit Makoto's back as he panted lightly.

As if sensing that something was wrong, Makoto stirred and Haruka hoped that he hadn't woken him up. Alas, Haruka knew he had roused Makoto, for he was showing the telltale signs: a soft whine coming from deep within his chest leaving his closed mouth, burying his face just a bit further in his pillow like his body was protesting against his awakening mind, his fingers curling into a light fist before unclenching again - he couldn't see it, but he just knew it was happening -, another soft hum rumbling through his body, and then, when his brain is finally capable of registering the world around him, his hands sleepily finding Haruka's arms around his midriff.

"Hm, Haru?" he drowsily mumbled upon feeling Haruka's limbs around him, his confusion clear as water. Normally on a weekday Haruka would already be in the tub for his morning soak by the time Makoto woke up, so it was alarming for him to find his lover still in bed with him.

"Makoto," Haruka croaked, his voice sounding hoarse and even more quiet than usual.

Hearing this almost desperate call from his lover that sounded nothing like his smooth voice immediately pulled him out of his sleep-induced haze. He rolled over in Haruka's embrace, now lying on his other side so he could face him. Upon seeing his lover's pale cheeks flushed red and his fringe plastered against his forehead with sweat, Makoto gasped softly before brushing his hair out of his face and replacing it with his hand.

"Oh Haru, you're burning up!" Makoto said, frowning down at Haruka in obvious concern.

"It's fine," Haruka defended, but with the way his voice broke in the middle, it didn't sound very convincing.

"It's not fine," Makoto insisted, "Haru, you have a fever!"

"I'm fine," Haruka retorted, "I'll be fine after I sleep some more."

"But Haru-"

"Makoto."

A deep sigh left Makoto's lips, signalling that he would give in. "Fine, but just for a little while, and then we're getting you out of those clothes."

In an attempt to spare his sore throat, Haruka nodded in agreement and directly realised that was the worse option of the two. Still, he didn't want Makoto to notice how much everything hurt, so he placed his head on top of Makoto's bicep and hid his face in his shoulder.

Reaching behind him for his phone, Makoto twisted back a little to get a proper hold of it so he could check the time. It was almost seven, which was the time he usually got up and therefore the time his alarm would go off. Regardless of Haruka's persistence, Makoto's mind was already made up and he turned the alarm he had set off. Then he put his phone back on the nightstand and turned his body back to his lover. He lifted his hand and began to gently run his fingers through his black hair, removing the damp locks from his face and brushing them back.

The motion was so calm, soft, and loving that it effectively lulled Haruka back into a restless sleep. Before he dozed off completely, he could feel a chaste kiss being pressed against his forehead.

He had no idea how much time passed before a tickly sensation in his throat woke him back up. Trying to get rid of it, Haruka dryly coughed. Makoto pulled back a little to give him some space, yet it didn't do much. Unable to cough properly while lying down, Haruka jerked forward quickly and began to cough violently, both of these actions not beneficial for his aching body. Black spots invaded vision as the world danced in front of his eyes. Makoto sat up as well, rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him and get him out of his coughing fit, but it didn't really help.

When Makoto realised this, he got out of bed and walked out of their room, returning not long after with a glass of water in his hand. He sat back down on the mattress, waiting for Haruka to cease coughing entirely before handing him the glass. Gratitude was not verbally expressed, but Makoto could tell by the way he accepted the glass that he was thankful Makoto had gotten it for him.

"Take small sips," he adviced, not wanting Haruka to gulp it down too fast and result into him choking and ending up in another coughing fit.

Haruka didn't respond but did as he instructed, the cool water soothing his throat yet at the same time swallowing hurt. The glass was empty in no time despite him drinking slowly. He handed the empty glass back to Makoto.

"Do you want more?"

"No," Haruka whispered, so quietly that most would have missed it. Makoto didn't. He nodded and put the glass down on his nightstand.

"So," Makoto said as he got up, "let's get you into the bath, all right?" He held out both of his arms.

"I can walk myself, you know," Haruka mumbled, some words more audible than others.

"But Haru, didn't you feel dizzy just now? And doesn't your whole body hurt?"

Silently he cursed Makoto's ability to read him so well. Haruka always thought of himself as pretty observant, yet no one could beat Makoto in reading him. It couldn't be helped, given their history and while he loved the fact that Makoto understood him so well because of his incapability to verbally express himself at times, that didn't mean that it didn't irritate him sometimes, especially when he wanted to hide something from Makoto. It was pretty much impossible to keep things from his boyfriend nowadays. Not that he wanted there to be anything hidden or secretive in their relationship, but in cases like these he wished Makoto wouldn't notice every little thing about him. It would only cause him to worry more, and Makoto had more important stuff to worry about than a common cold Haruka basically called over himself. He was the one who had to face the consequences, and he could do that on his own just fine.

A gentle smile appeared on Makoto's face, once more proving that he had clearly understood that. "I know you're very independent, Haru-chan, but it's not bad to let someone else take care of you for once. It's all right to lean on me from time to time, you know."

"Drop the '-chan'," Haruka muttered as he averted his eyes, trying to prevent Makoto from staring into his soul and thus unravelling him further.

It was to no avail, as Makoto's smile only widened. Haruka pulled himself towards the edge of the bed and swung his legs over it, allowing Makoto to lift him. Big hands reached underneath his thighs as Makoto bent down and Haruka encircled Makoto's neck with his arms, holding himself to his lover as he was lifted into the air. His legs wrapped around Makoto's waist and he rested his head in the crook where Makoto's neck met his shoulder.

"I know you're feeling worse than you're letting on," Makoto murmured, purposefully keeping his voice low, "Let me take care of you."

In response Haruka squeezed him a bit tighter, submitting to Makoto and letting himself be carried to the bathroom. This definitely wasn't the first time Makoto carried him like this, in fact it had happened multiple times before and this definitely wouldn't be the last time either, yet the situation was always completely different than it was now. Usually their lips would be locked in fiery yet tender kiss, their desire for each other dominating their minds as Makoto would press him against a wall or lay him down on their bed, bodies enveloping one another as they expressed their love and lust for each other until they reached the heights of passion and pleasure together. Though he was obviously in no mood for those kind of activities right now, he wished that a scenario like that was occurring instead, for he knew he vastly preferred that over this illness.

Inside the bathroom Makoto set Haruka down on the ledge of the bathtub and helped him take off his shirt and boxershorts, which he then threw into the laundry basket. He supported Haruka as he sat down onto the shower stool, turned the tap of the bath on and put the plug in, letting hot water fill the tub. Taking the shower head into his hand, his other hand twisted one of the knobs. He purposefully kept the shower head averted from Haruka as the water came running out of it while he changed the temperature.

"Is this okay, Haru?" he asked when he thought he had found the right temperature and pointed the shower head at Haruka's feet.

"Hmm," Haruka hummed in confirmation.

At Haruka's green light Makoto moved his hand and let the water pour over his lover's body. Once Haruka was completely wet he reached out and grabbed a bottle of shampoo. Then he kneeled behind him, handing the shower head to Haruka to keep his body warm. He opened the bottle and squeezed a decent amount of shampoo into the palm of his hand. After he closed the bottle and put it down on the floor beside him, he rubbed his hands together and started to run them over Haruka's scalp, spreading the shampoo over his head and hair.

"Tilt your head back a little," Makoto requested, not wanting any of the shampoo to get into his eyes.

Haruka did as he had been told and closed his eyes. The steam coming from the shower was making him dizzy again and he had a hard time keeping himself upright because of the warmth raining down on his body that was making him more and more sleepy. He swayed a little and would have fallen backwards if it wasn't for Makoto's solid chest supporting him.

"It's all right. Lean on me," Makoto whispered into his ear as he massaged his scalp. Although he had said it in a literal sense as Haruka was literally leaning against him, Haruka knew he meant it mostly in a figurative way.

Too tired and ill to fight against Makoto's caring nature, Haruka gave in to it and relaxed his muscles, letting himself be held up by his lover's body as the tension seeped out of his pores and washed down the drain. A content sigh left his lips. Despite the fact that he was feeling more miserable than he had in a while and was in a vulnerable state, he couldn't deny that he felt completely safe in Makoto's arms. He always did. Even if the whole world around him was crumbling and reality like he knew it was tearing apart at the seams, he would always have his place in Makoto's arms, knowing they would protect and comfort him, love him until the end of eternity. They were home. Makoto was home.

Blame it on his sickness, but Haruka was feeling particularly affectionate and that shone through in his thoughts. Not that he would let Makoto know.

When Makoto deemed himself done with washing Haruka's hair he rinsed the remaining shampoo off of his hands before he got up and grabbed a washcloth. He folded it and handed it to Haruka as he grabbed the shower head again.

"Hold that in front of your eyes, all right?" he asked, again in order to prevent any stray trails of water mixed with shampoo to end up in his eyes.

Once he did Makoto began to rinse his hair out, combing his fingers gently through his hair to make sure no remnants of shampoo were left behind in his lover's black locks. Then he got up again to grab another washcloth and the bottle of soap and twisted the knob of the bathtub's faucet as it was mostly full now before sitting back on his knees behind Haruka. Sticking the handle of the shower head between his thighs so he would have both of his hands free, he put the washcloth on his right hand and made sure it was thoroughly wet before he poured some of the liquid soap onto it, wetting it once more afterwards.

Makoto took a hold of Haruka's left arm and began to wash his body, starting from the tips of his fingers and ascending up his arm to his clavicle, armpit and chest, then down his other arm. From his right arm Makoto went back to his chest and belly before moving to his shoulders and back, followed by his bottom - for which he lifted his lover's body slightly - and crotch , then down his legs until he reached his feet and toes. When he was sure he had cleaned every last part of Haruka's body, he squeezed the remaining water out of the washcloth before throwing it aside to be dealt with later.

He grabbed the shower head again and rinsed off Haruka's body, lifting his arms and hips to ensure no soap clung to his skin. Now fresh and completely devoid of sweat, Makoto placed one of his arms underneath Haruka's knees and the other one around his back, picking him up bridal style. Arms naturally wound around his neck again and Makoto carried Haruka to the tub before slowly lowering him into it, the water volume rising as he did.

"Comfortable?" Makoto inquired.

"Hmm."

This hum was the only response he got, but coming from Haruka, it was as good as an expression of gratitude, and Makoto knew this, of course. He leaned down and pressed a light kiss against Haruka's wet hair.

"I'm going to take a quick shower now, okay? Tell me if you need anything."

Haruka didn't reply, but he knew he didn't need to. Though he usually preferred to bathe in cooler water, he now appreciated the warm water as it soothed his aching joints and muscles - besides, cold water would only contribute to his ill state.

With his head resting on the edge of the bathtub, Haruka watched as Makoto stripped himself of his wet underwear and ran the shower again to wash himself, head pleasantly void of any particular thoughts as he started to doze off again.

"Haru. Wake up, Haru," a gentle voice that sounded so familiar spoke softly, "Come on, Haru-chan. The water's cold."

His eyes began to flutter open, still too bleary and hazy to see the world around him, making him doubt whether he was still dreaming or not. The water he felt against his body was suddenly disappearing, which affirmed that this was a dream, or so he thought.

"Haru," that same voice called out again. He recognised that voice; he knew that voice better than any other voice. It was the voice he loved the most, belonging to the person he loved the most. Makoto's voice.

Along with that beautiful voice came that beautiful face that was getting more and more clear as his eyes focused. One of Makoto's kind smiles was what became visible first, followed by that cute nose and those gorgeous eyes, shining brighter than the sun, like the most precious gemstones the planet possessed. This was definitely a dream, for being blessed with such a sight was too good to be true, too good to be real. How else could it be that he, a mere human, was in the presence of an angel? Except this was no dream. And this angel was none other than his own lover.

"Haru?"

Makoto. He was concerned. His beautiful voice was laced with worry. It shouldn't be. That beautiful voice should only be full of laughter, sounding out in joy and glee.

Suddenly his world was literally turned upside down and he was pulled out of his dreaminess by Makoto lifting him out of the tub and placing him on his feet, which were not ready to support his weight yet and he stumbled against Makoto's chest. Solid as his body was, Makoto luckily didn't crash to the ground with the addition of having to hold Haruka upright as well.

"Oh Haru, I'm so sorry," Makoto said as he wrapped a big and fluffy white towel around Haruka's body, "I shouldn't have left you in the tub for so long. I should have gotten you out when the water was still warm, but I didn't think it would get cold this soon."

Only then did Haruka fully comprehend what was going on again. He felt cold and his entire body hurt, his head was throbbing and his face ached. The only difference from before was that his teeth were clattering now too, though he didn't know whether that was from sitting in the cold water or from the fever.

Meanwhile Makoto was still rapidly rambling on, and even though Haruka didn't listen to what he was saying, the way he spoke was so frantic that it increased Haruka's headache.

"What if I made your fever worse? Oh no, I'm so so-"

"Makoto."

Realising his mistake, Makoto abruptly stopped talking and released a sigh. "Ah, I'm sorry, Haru," he continued, calmer and softer this time.

"It's fine," he mumbled as Makoto draped another towel, this one smaller, over his head to dry his hair. "What time is it?"

"Around eight-twenty, I think."

Eight-twenty? If he remembered correctly - which he couldn't really be sure of with his sleepy and feverish brain - it was Thursday today, and on Thursday Makoto's classes started at eight. Then he noticed the clothing Makoto was wearing: grey pajama pants and an old shirt - that was darker in some spots courtesy of Haruka's wet body colliding against him. While he was not one to dress up for class or anything, this was certainly not something Makoto would wear to school; he would at least wear jeans or trousers and a more sophisticated shirt or sweatershirt. Which only confirmed that Makoto would not be attending classes any time soon.

"Shouldn't you be at school?"

"Hmm? No, I called in sick."

"What?" Despite the fact that his throat was hoarse and scratchy, he spoke louder this time, stunned by Makoto's words. "Don't you have that big test coming up?"

"Yes," Makoto shrugged nonchalantly as he continued to dry Haruka's hair, not meeting the blue eyes that looked at him in a combination of confusion and concern.

"Then shouldn't you go?"

Haruka knew better than anyone else what kind of student Makoto was. He studied harder than most of his peers and always attended his classes. So for him to skip right before a big test was unheard of, especially since he has been studying for that test for weeks already, wanting to make sure he passed.

"Your health is more important than any test, Haru-chan. _You_ are more important. Besides, aren't you the one who always tells me that I'm working too hard and that I should take a break?"

He didn't answer. Guilt was forming in his stomach again, making it hurt even more than it already did. The nausea that coiled inside of him increased intensity with the knowledge that Makoto was skipping while he was already so worried about the test, all because he was too obstinate to listen to Makoto. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

"It's all right, though, I'll just borrow someone's notes when I get back," Makoto said with a smile.

Although he would probably do that, it only made Haruka feel more guilty. He knew Makoto didn't like borrowing other people's notes for multiple reasons. Firstly, he didn't want to bother anyone. Secondly, he liked to keep everything in order; his notes were always neat and organised by lecture and missing a lecture meant missing notes and messing up the order. Thirdly, he couldn't always fully understand the notes his classmates made, for either their handwriting was unclear or everything was written out of order or through different notes of different classes, which made it more difficult for him to decipher. And lastly, the notes his classmates made might miss something about a lecture that could be important and something he would have written down, so he could be missing vital information. Yet, despite this, Makoto would willingly sacrifice ensuring he had good notes for optimal preparation and studying for Haruka. Even though Haruka had gotten sick despite his warnings and scoldings.

"I also called your coach and texted one of your classmates to ask them to take notes for you," Makoto informed, "Your coach wishes you well and said to not worry about swim practice."

"I'm sorry."

Those words were spoken so quietly that Makoto almost wasn't sure if he had actually said them. But since it was Haruka, Makoto knew that he wasn't imagining it. He ceased rubbing Haruka's hair and slid the towel off his head.

Haruka's gaze was pointed towards his feet, making his head pound even more but in that moment he didn't care about that, just wanting to avoid Makoto's eyes. Those beautiful green eyes would be full of love and forgiveness, he was sure of it, but he felt like he didn't deserve it. Sometimes, he felt like he didn't deserve Makoto at all and Makoto was an expert in whisking those feelings away. But right now, he truly needed to learn his lesson, and he wouldn't be able to do that if he witnessed those loving eyes.

Instead, Makoto wrapped his arms around his towel-clad body, holding him close but not tight enough to potentially hurt his aching body; loose enough for Haruka to break out of his hold if he wished to do so. No reaction whatsoever was given and upon not receiving any form of rejection to his embrace, Makoto placed a sweet kiss against the crown of his head.

"You don't have to apologise, Haru-chan. It's all right."

"But I-"

"You didn't mean to get sick. This wasn't your intention. So you don't need to apologise," Makoto murmured as one of his arms retreated and his fingers gently grasped Haruka's chin, tilting his head upwards so he would meet his eyes. Ocean blue met forest green. Not a single trace of anger, annoyance or disappointment resided in Makoto's gaze; nothing but love and caring was conveyed to Haruka. Makoto leaned downward a bit and pressed a second kiss between his eyebrows, soft enough to be soothing to his thrumming head. When he pulled back, a compassionate and loving smile lit up his face.

A sneeze that Makoto couldn't describe as anything but adorable broke their moment. It was followed by a light sniff from Haruka and a small chuckle from Makoto.

"Come on, let's get you dry and dressed. You must be freezing!"

In silence he resumed to towel off Haruka's body. His hair was mostly dry now so he tossed the smaller towel aside and began to dry his torso. Most of his skin had already dried up underneath the towel, but Makoto rubbed over every last centimeter to make sure no droplets remained.

Once his torso was completely dry, Makoto tied the towel around Haruka's waist. Then he grabbed the pajamas he had selected. It was an old pair of Makoto's that Haruka loved to wear when it was cold outside or when he wasn't feeling well, either physically or mentally. Of course, it couldn't compete with the orange and yellow shirt he previously had been wearing since that was his absolute favourite, but it was a close second. It was just a little too big for him; big enough to be comfortably oversized, but not big enough to trip over. The fabric was dark red checkered with green and a little worn out but it was still really comfy.

Makoto pulled his arms through the sleeves and closed the buttons, after which he proceeded to towel off Haruka's legs. Then he helped him put on his underwear and pajama pants, tying the drawstring so it wouldn't slip off his hips.

"Do you want to eat something right now?" Makoto asked when he straightened his back once more.

"No, I'm not hungry."

"All right, then. Let's brush our teeth and then you can go back to bed."

Side by side they brushed their teeth, Makoto keeping an arm wrapped around his waist to support him and prevent him from possibly falling over in case he got dizzy again. After they were done Makoto waited for Haruka to finish using the toilet and wash his hands before he picked him up again.

As he was carried back into their bedroom, clinging to Makoto like a baby koala with his head against his collarbone, he noticed that Makoto had closed the blinds, changed the sheets and that the duvet was drawn back. Makoto put him down on top of the mattress and he saw that his pillow had been fluffed and that Makoto had prepared some things and set them on his nightstand: a small, half-empty bottle of water stood next to a full glass as well as two aspirins, a thermometer, a box of tissues, and his phone.

Though Haruka was still nowhere near an avid user of his phone, ever since they had moved to Tokyo he had begun to actually carry his phone with him and started to use it more often too. Because Makoto and him didn't go to the same university and therefore weren't around each other during the day, he couldn't rely on Makoto anymore when it came to his phone. Previously if someone wanted to contact him, they would just call Makoto since they would be together either way, but unfortunately that wasn't an option anymore. Despite his initial disdain towards his phone, he actually found that he didn't mind it as much, in fact he preferred to have his phone close. It made him feel like Makoto was nearby, within hand reach.

Kneeling next to the bed, Makoto grabbed the thermometer. "I'm going to take your temperature first, all right?"

Haruka hummed in approval and Makoto undid the top few buttons of his pajama shirt and put the thermometer between his armpit. Holding it there until it beeped, Makoto took a peep at the number displayed on the little screen before withdrawing it.

"39.4 degrees," he read aloud, unable to stop a waver of worry from seeping into his voice. "That's pretty high, Haru. If it hasn't gone down tomorrow, then I'm calling a doctor."

Knowing that no matter how he protested, Makoto would do it any way, Haruka didn't object. He didn't have much energy to begin with and he wasn't about to waste it by fighting a one-sided battle.

"Here, take these aspirins. It's okay if you don't want to eat right now, but you'll have to eat something later. I'll make you some porridge," Makoto said as he buttoned him up again.

At the implication of Makoto, _his_ Makoto, cooking, an alarm bell started to ring in his mind.

When Makoto saw the look on Haruka's face at the mention of him preparing a meal, a small pout formed on his lips, trying to look offended. "I've gotten better at cooking! Besides, I'll be making rice porridge, what can go wrong? I really can't burn down the kitchen while making that!" he defended.

"Maybe," Haruka mumbled, thinking that he'll believe it when he sees it. "I suppose you have improved a little, as long as you don't mistake the sugar for salt again."

"That happened one time!" he objected and upon seeing Haruka's raised eyebrow, he quietly continued, "Okay, maybe it happened more often than that, but it hasn't happened in a long time!"

'That's because you haven't cooked in a long time,' was what Haruka thought, but he decided to spare both Makoto and himself. Although he liked teasing Makoto and couldn't help himself even if he was sick, there was a limit. And right now, he really just wanted to go to sleep. So he decided to give Makoto the benefit of the doubt.

He took one of the aspirins and placed it on his tongue, then taking the glass of water to swallow it more easily. The pill started to dissolve on his tongue before he could gulp it down, leaving a foul taste in his mouth and making him scrunch up his face. Waiting for a moment to cough lightly, Haruka took the remaining pill and downed it too, hoping that it would start to work soon and relieve his pain a little.

After he emptied the glass of water he put it back on his nightstand, lying down on his back. Makoto refilled the glass and recapped the bottle before he got up, pulled the duvet up to Haruka's chin and tucked him in. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and began to brush Haruka's hair out of his face again, his other hand reaching underneath the duvet to hold Haruka's in his.

"I left your phone on the nightstand. Call me if you need anything so you won't have to yell. I won't pick up, but I'll come to you as soon as possible."

Haruka looked into Makoto's eyes, mentally conveying that he understood and that it was okay. In moments like these he was reminded of why their almost-telepathic connection was far more of a blessing than a curse. While, yes, he sometimes was annoyed at the fact that Makoto could read him like an open book - like he had been not too long ago - he loved that they were able to do it. Not only did it make him feel like he was so much closer to Makoto than anyone else could ever hope to be, it proved to be useful in cases such as this one as well. It also prevented him from being obligated to talk in social situations, for Makoto would just answer in his stead. It wasn't like he didn't like to talk to Makoto, because he did, but right now his throat hurt so much that every word he could spare was appreciated.

"I'll stay here until you fall asleep, all right?" Makoto whispered as he bent down and placed a chaste kiss on Haruka's forehead, "Sleep well, Haru."

The hand in his hair drifted from his fringe to his cheek once the black locks were combed aside, cupping his face with curled fingers and rubbing small circles on his cheek and jaw with his thumb.

"Sweet dreams, Haru-chan."

A loud clattering noise coming from the general direction of the kitchen was what shocked Haruka awake. He shot up in bed, being reminded of the condition of his body the harsh way. He had no idea how much time had passed since he had gone to sleep, nor did he have any idea what Makoto was doing besides absolutely destroyingtheir kitchen.

At that moment Makoto's head poked around the doorway. "I'm sorry!" he yelled, "It's fine! I'm fine!"

From the dishevelled state Makoto seemed to be in, Haruka knew better than to ask what had happened. If it was something Makoto couldn't solve by himself, then he would deal with it later; he didn't have the energy to care beyond that at this point.

"I'm so sorry, Haru," Makoto said, quieter this time as he walked further into the room. "I didn't mean to startle you awake."

"It's fine," Haruka uttered as he went to lie down again, resting his head on top of his pillow.

Makoto pulled the duvet up to his chin once more. "Anyway, I need to go out to get some groceries and medicine. Will you be okay while I'm gone?"

'Of course, why wouldn't I be?' Haruka thought, and the chuckle Makoto gave him in response told him he got the message quite clearly.

"Of course you would, it was a silly question," Makoto breathed, the remains of his laughter slowly drifting away. "I'll try to be back as quickly as possible. Is there anything you need?"

"Mackerel."

"We already have enough mackerel. Besides, you need to eat something else than mackerel for once, especially now you're sick. Something more healthy."

"Mackerel is healthy."

A sigh left Makoto's lips as he fondly shook his head. "All right, all right. Anything besides mackerel?"

"No."

"Call me if anything is up, okay? I won't be long." Makoto smiled at him before he bent down to kiss him.

"No!" Haruka protested as he pushed Makoto away, keeping his lips from meeting his. "Idiot! What if you get sick too?"

Startled for a second, Makoto gaped at Haruka before the soft smile returned to his face. "Sorry, force of habit," he explained before pressing the kiss that was meant for his lips against his forehead.

Haruka nodded. Although he very much would have liked to properly kiss Makoto like he hadn't done all day, he knew he couldn't be selfish like that. Makoto was already taking care of him despite the fact that he should be attending college, so he couldn't risk getting him sick too and making him miss more of his classes and possibly the test.

Straightening his back, Makoto walked around the bed towards the dresser and took out a pair of jeans, taking off the pajama pants he was wearing and putting this pair on instead.

"I love you, Haru. I'll be going then," Makoto said.

"Have a safe trip," Haruka replied as Makoto walked out of the room, shutting the door behind himself. "I love you too," he mumbled as soon as he heard the front door opening and closing again, knowing that Makoto couldn't hear him, but believing he would feel his words all the same.

His eyes fluttered shut as he turned on his side, trying to go back to sleep. It was to no avail. No matter how he twisted or turned, he couldn't seem to find a comfortable position let alone some rest. He was so tired but his stuffed nose especially was keeping him awake. So he sat up and tried to blow his nose, but that was not effective.

Unable to breathe through his nose, there was no other option for him but to breathe through his mouth, which made it dry and made his throat hurt even more. Grabbing the glass of water that Makoto had poured him, he took a few small sips before he put it back down and lied down again.

It was as if all of the exertion and exhaustion of the past few months came rushing out all at once. Now that he was resting, he was able to feel just how worn-out he was, how exhausted he had been from the life style of swim practice, college classes, forced socialising, et cetera. It wasn't as if he didn't feel tired after a long day, because he did, but even then the alarm clock rang the next morning all the same, another day waiting for him without mercy or consideration. Maybe that once he was better, he would have renewed energy to go forward since he had been completely rested. If he could sleep, that was. But that wasn't so easy either, for besides his stuffy nose, his aching joints and tense muscles also did their best to prevent him from sleeping.

Basically the only time he could relax nowadays was time spent with Makoto. Besides the obvious way Makoto could unravel him entirely, he just felt completely at ease around Makoto. Inside Makoto's arms he found refuge, the tension in his body dissolving into thin air as soon as he saw that special smile Makoto reserved for him. The knowledge that no matter what happened during the day, those arms would be ready to hold and comfort him when he came home, soothed him and made him go on. As long as they had each other to love and build upon, they could survive anything, be it an important swim meet, a nerve-wracking test, or a cold. With Makoto standing beside him, holding his hand and supporting him, Haruka felt like he could truly overcome anything.

Makoto. Haruka could still feel his lips against his forehead, could still hear the words 'I love you' resonating through his mind. Those sappy thoughts and his sick state were the culprit, but he began to miss Makoto a little, even though he left not too long ago and would be back before he knew it. Affection filled his heart, a certain craving to wrap his arms around his lover overcoming him - even though his body would probably appreciate all the room it could get, so holding Makoto close was most likely out of the question when it came to comfort.

A tickling sensation in his nose interrupted his thoughts and yearnings. His nostrils flared and he sneezed once, twice, then sat up to blow his nose once more. After discarding the tissue wherever and lying back down, he began to drift between the weird state of being awake and being asleep, yet never feeling like he had actually slept.

At last he heard the front door open again, a muffled 'I'm home' sounding out. Although there wasn't a clear reason why, somehow he felt more relieved to know Makoto was home once more. Even if he was only away for a moment, Haruka preferred to have him close, safe and at home in their own sanctuary of love.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to stop the stupid thoughts from shooting through his mind. As the virus was fighting his immuun system, it was also destroying his sense of reason.

Then Makoto entered the room once more with a plastic bag in his hand.

"Welcome home," Haruka greeted, his voice low and hoarse as he hoisted himself up.

"I'm home," Makoto repeated as he sat down on the edge of the bed again, "I got you some stuff. Hopefully it will make you feel better."

He rummaged through the bag and took out a box of nose spray, after which he placed the bag on the floor and opened the box. Taking out the little bottle, he took off the cap and sprayed it a few times to get it to work properly before he handed it to Haruka, who gladly accepted it and sprayed it into his nose, inhaling the drops in hopes of it relieving him from the stuffiness. He gave it back to Makoto, who cleaned the tip with a tissue before reboxing it, placing it on the nightstand and grabbing another box out of the bag, this time coughing syrup. Removing it from its box, Makoto easily opened the childproof bottle and poured the designated amount into the little cup, once more handing it to his lover. Reluctantly he swallowed the syrup, the nasty taste lingering on his tongue and he made a face. It was even more disgusting than he remembered it to be. Always there to save him, Makoto offered him water once again and he accepted it, trying to wash down the disgusting aftertaste. Lastly, Makoto took a package of pills out of the bag and he pressed one of the pills out, dropping it into Haruka's hand and telling him to suck on it. Doing as he was told, Haruka popped it into his mouth and as he was sucking on it, a tingling feeling started to spread through his mouth, the pill slowly dissolving and numbing the pain in his throat.

When the pill was gone, he took another sip of water before he lied back down. In the meanwhile the nose spray had begun to work and he was able to breathe again. Being able to actually breathe through your nose was such an underrated quality that you only learned to appreciate as soon as you couldn't do it anymore. You don't realise what you have until it's gone, Haruka concluded, and though he could feel that his sinusses were still stuffed, he was so relieved to be able to breathe properly again.

Makoto had stalled out the medication he had given him on his nightstand, within reach for if he needed to use them again.

"Is that better?" Makoto asked to which Haruka nodded, "Is there anything else you need right now?"

"No," he responded, the 'thank you' unspoken but conveyed all the same.

He laid back down and Makoto turned to him, gently petting his hair. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"

"Hm."

"Good. I'll go make you some porridge now, okay?" Another noncommittal hum was all he got in return. It made him chuckle softly. Then he placed a very light kiss on Haruka's cheek and got up, taking the plastic bag with him. "Sleep well, Haru."

Before Makoto had as much as left the room, Haruka had already dozed off into a deep sleep.

"Haru-chan," Makoto whispered as he ran his fingers through his hair, the motion not as easy as it was before, because Makoto's fingers got stuck behind the strands.

Pulled out of his dreams, Haruka blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the dim light that shone through the closed blinds. In confusion he hummed and Makoto's face came into his vision, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I made you some porridge," Makoto said softly, "You should try to eat some."

Although he was feeling kind of nauseous and wasn't particularly hungry, he knew Makoto was right. He had taken a bunch of different medicine and it wouldn't be wise to keep his stomach empty. Not listening to Makoto's advice was what got him in this situation in the first place, so for now he had learned his lesson to listen to his boyfriend more.

So he tried to push himself up, the movement taking more effort than it usually would have and Makoto noticed this and helped him. Once he was sitting up straight Makoto rearranged his pillow and grabbed his own as well, putting them between the headboard of their bed and Haruka's body so his back was supported as he sat upright.

"Do you need another pillow?"

"No, this is fine."

"All right. I'll go get you some food now. Do you want anything else to drink? Some tea or something?"

"No."

"Okay."

Makoto left the room and came back a few minutes later with a tray in his hands. Sitting himself down on the bed, he placed the tray on his lap and took another bottle of water off of it and put it down on the nightstand. Then he grabbed the spoon and scooped some porridge up with it, holding his hand underneath it as he moved it away and softly blew on it.

It was at that moment that Haruka was able to see the fingers of Makoto's left hand. Numerous band-aids were wrapped around them, indicating that he had done something to hurt himself. Haruka grabbed Makoto's hand and pulled it towards himself so he could inspect the wounds closer.

"What did you do?"

"Oh, this?" Makoto said as he put the spoon back into the bowl, "It's nothing. I just cut myself when I was chopping the vegetables. It's no big deal," he tried to shrug off.

"You cut yourself this many times?"

Awkwardly Makoto rubbed his neck with his other hand. "It was by accident," he explained, as if that hadn't been obvious already, "But don't worry, no blood got into the food."

As if that was what he was worried about. "Idiot. You didn't curl your fingers, did you?"

"I... kind of, may have forgotten..."

In response to this, Haruka sighed and closed his eyes in exasperation. That was it, Makoto was no longer allowed in their kitchen without his supervision. He just didn't want Makoto to hurt himself, especially not unnecessarily.

"You disinfected the cuts, right?"

"I did. I'm sorry, Haru, but I was a little distracted," Makoto admitted and he could practically read in Haruka's eyes that he shouldn't get distracted while cooking, so he elaborated, "I know I'm kind of a disaster in the kitchen but I still wanted to make it as good as I could so that you would like it and you would feel better soon. So I looked up recipes on the internet but they were all kind of confusing and didn't really say anything about the ingredients so instead I called my mom. I didn't want to bother her but I didn't know what else to do since I wanted it to be actually edible so she talked me through it and I got a little distracted talking to her and then I cut my fingers. Multiple times."

Of course that would be his explanation, Haruka thought fondly as he inwardly shook his head. Instinctively he lifted Makoto's hand to his lips and pressed soft kisses against his injured fingers, only remembering that he was sick and full of germs after he did it. Makoto only smiled at him, that same loving smile that was reserved for him. Although it was physically impossible for someone to own a smile, Haruka thought that that smile belonged to him and him alone.

Then Makoto resumed with what he was doing before, picking up the spoon and holding it to his lips, intending to blow on the food before he realised that it had probably cooled by now. Lifting the spoon to Haruka's lips, he said, "Here, Haru."

"You don't have to feed me," Haruka replied as he turned his head away. If his fever hadn't flushed his cheeks bright red already, he would have blushed.

"But your body hurts, right?"

It did. His head still pounded, his mucles still burned and his joints still ached despite the medication he had taken. Even in a resting position everything hurt, and on top of that his feet felt like they were freezing even though they were beneath the warm and thick duvet. No matter what he did, rubbing them together or holding them against his legs, nothing could warm them. But that had nothing to do with his capability of feeding himself.

"You know, I was actually kind of glad," Makoto suddenly started, "Not that you're sick, of course, I would never be glad about that! But," he paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and put them into coherent sentences before he continued, "Haru, you're always taking care of me, looking after me. I need you, Haru. You cook for me, you always make sure I'm all right, that I don't study too much or overwork myself, you protect me from my fears even though we both know they're irrational, you do everything for me. And it makes me feel really loved, really cherished and cared for. And I want to make you feel the same way. But you're very independent, and you can do everything by yourself. And sometimes that makes me feel like I'm useless, because you do everything for me, but I can't do anything for you in return. So right now, I feel like I can be useful to you, too. Like I can be the one who's taking care of you for once instead of the other way around. Even if it's just little things, like helping you shower or getting you medication or making you porridge and feeding it to you, it makes me feel like you can depend on me, like I'm able to support you like you always support me. I want to make you feel just as loved, cherished and cared for as you make me feel. I want you to need me too, I guess..."

All Haruka wanted to do was wrap his arms around Makoto and kiss all of his insecurities away. He knew he couldn't do that, no matter how badly he wanted to. So instead, he tried to whisk Makoto's self-doubt away as easily as Makoto was able to whisk his own worries away, but with words rather than actions. It would be difficult for him, for he was not that skilled when it came to expressing his thoughts and feelings verbally, but he would have to try, as he couldn't just let Makoto walk around feeling so insecure especially since his insecurities weren't true in the slightest.

"Idiot. You always put others before yourself, you always think about me first. You're always looking after me, always taking care of me. You're so selfless that you don't even realise it. Every single day you have a towel ready for me. Whenever we still have chores to do and I'm tired, you always do it and let me rest even though you're just as tired as I am. When I get home from practice all sore, you offer to give me a massage even if you have more important things to do."

"But that's different..."

"How is it different?" Haruka asked sceptically, "You do as much for me as I do for you. Perhaps even more than that. It's been like that for all of our lives. No matter what happened, I was able to go through it all because you were by my side, regardless of what my choices were, you always supported me, always loved me for who I am. Even today, when you should be going to college to get your education and make your dreams come true, you stay at home to take care of me. And I'm sorry, Makoto, but you don't get to decide how I feel, and I feel every bit as loved, cherished and cared for as you do. Because you make me feel that way. Not only do you tell me every single day, but you show me every single day as well. Don't ever think that I don't need you just as much as you need me."

How could it be that Makoto did notice the subtle things Haruka did for him, but not the other way around? Did he even realise how selfless he was, how much pure love he emitted through his gaze and his smiles and just random phrases like 'you really need to dry your hair properly, Haru'? The fact that Makoto was so unsure of himself when it came to things like this hurt Haruka, and while he understood it for he sometimes felt the same way, he just wanted the both of them to stop feeling like this already.

"I love you and you love me, and as long as we both know that then everything is all right. Nothing else matters."

After talking so much, his throat ached even more than it did before but he didn't care about that. Although saying so much was quite unlike him, he just wanted to take Makoto's unnecessary worries and insecurities away once and for all. Now he just really hoped that his words had been completely understood by Makoto. Even though it wasn't formulated as well as it could have been, it was what he truly felt, what his heart contained and what he wanted Makoto to know.

"So stop being so stupid," he ended, averting his eyes once more. Though it was kind of a mean thing to say, Haruka knew that Makoto wouldn't take it like that, that he understood it was meant in a positive way.

The surprised expression on Makoto's face from Haruka's little speech softened and made place for _that_ look, the look that he only showed to him, the look that was so full of unadulterated affection and adoration. It warmed Haruka from the inside, and if at that point he would have had any insecurities himself, they evaporated into thin air by just witnessing that look.

"You're right, Haru. I'm sorry," Makoto apologised, and unlike all the times he said sorry for adding '-chan' to his name, Haruka could tell that he really meant it.

"You don't have to apologise," Haruka replied earnestly.

Makoto's eyes fell shut as he tilted his head in that adorable way of his. Then he seemed to recall something and he gasped.

"Oh, Haru, the porridge! It's all cold now," he said in disappointment, "I'm sorry, it's my fault. I'll go get you another bowl." Just as he was about to get up, a hand on his wrist caught him, preventing him from doing so.

"It's okay, I'll eat it."

"At least let me reheat it in the microwave."

"No, this is fine."

Knowing better than to argue with his sick, stubborn boyfriend, Makoto adjusted himself on the bed and fully turned to Haruka again, picking up the spoon for the umpteenth time.

"That still doesn't mean that you can feed me," Haruka joked, the smile evident in his voice.

"Shut up and eat," Makoto teased back, though it sounded more fond than anything else. He lifted the spoon to Haruka's mouth, who despite his protests opened it and allowed Makoto to feed him.

The porridge was thin and like he had already been expecting it was pretty cold already. When it came to the vegetables, he recognised carrots, green onions and shiitake mushrooms, the same things Mrs. Tachibana put in her porridge - which made sense because Makoto had gone to her for help. Overall, it was nothing special, per se, but the fact that Makoto had taken his time to make it for him despite being an absolute mess in the kitchen, that he put effort into making it despite having more important things to do, that he tried his best to make it as good as possible despite having no clue what he was doing, made it taste so much better than it actually did, like all of the love he had poured into making it made up for what it lacked in taste.

"It's good," he remarked and even though he wasnt't hungry at all, he would try his best to finish the entire bowl. He wouldn't want to waste the meal Makoto put his everything into making for him, especially since he literally hurt himself in the process. And he would savour every last bite.

At his boyfriend's praise Makoto's face lit up. "Really? I tried some earlier to make sure it was actually edible, and it was okay. And back then it was still warm. So I can imagine that it doesn't taste good at all. It definitely can't compare to your cooking, Haru."

"Don't sell yourself short. It's good."

"Thank you, Haru," Makoto beamed.

"Now, hurry up. If you're so insistent on feeding me then you need to actually feed me," Haruka grumbled, wanting to cover up the fact that Makoto's adorable smile and meaningful words were messing with his feverish brain.

"Yes, yes," Makoto breathed, scooping up some more porridge and bringing it to Haruka's mouth.

This motion was repeated in silence until the entire bowl was empty.

"Thanks for the food," Haruka said after the last bite.

"Do you want more?"

"No, thanks." He was already full as it was, and though he would have preferred to eat everything Makoto made for him, he knew that was not reasonable.

"All right, I'll be right back." Makoto got up and grabbed the empty bottle of water, putting it on the tray and carrying it back to their kitchen.

Patiently waiting for him to return, Haruka looked around their room. It was pretty small, only a double bed with two nightstands, a dresser and a closet fit inside, but it was all they really needed. The entire apartment was small as well, but it was big enough for the both of them to comfortably live together. They were college students after all, they couldn't afford much more nor did they need more, for the majority of the day was spent outside of their apartment. But still, despite it being a small apartment in a huge, unfamiliar city, it was home, the first place he had ever shared with the love of his life. It could be argued that his old house in Iwatobi was practically the first place he had shared with Makoto since he was over more often than not, but that didn't count. Although it wasn't much, this was the place that they had worked hard to turn into their home, leaving their own mark on it and personalising it until it was truly theirs.

Then again, it didn't matter where they were, be it a huge mansion or a carton box underneath a bridge, any place was home as long as it was a place shared with Makoto.

At that moment Makoto came back and Haruka was once again pulled from his stupid daydreams.

"Haru, I made you some herbal tea. Maybe it will make you feel a bit better," he muttered as he sat down on the bed and handed Haruka the cup.

"Thanks."

The steam coming from the cup warmed his face pleasantly and he blew softly before taking a small sip. The hot liquid soothed his aching throat and warmed his body as it coursed through his esophagus. Still, his feet were really cold and he pressed them against Makoto, trying to warm them with his lover's body through the duvet.

Of course, Makoto noticed what he was doing and reached underneath the duvet.

"Oh Haru, your feet are freezing!" he remarked upon feeling Haruka's cold toes. He pulled Haruka's right foot out underneath the duvet and rested it on his lap, his hands wrapping around it. The heat of Makoto's hands enveloped his foot and felt heavenly against his icy skin. Then he began to gently massage it, trying to stimulate his blood flow. Upon hearing Haruka sigh softly, he asked, "Do they hurt?"

"A little," Haruka admitted, "They're tired, mostly." Worn-out from swimming and carrying his weight around the large city day in, day out without getting a lot of rest. There was no need for him to add this, because Makoto had already nodded in understanding and continued to rub his foot, now paying extra attention to certain pressure points.

Another pleased sigh left his lips and he let his eyes fall shut. How could it be that Makoto thought he didn't do enough for him when he was the one who was pampering him like this all the time? Massages like these weren't uncommon at all, and usually he was on the receiving end. Whether it be his shoulders, back, legs or like now, feet, whenever training had caused a certain part of his body to hurt, Makoto was there to soothe his aches and take the pain away like only he could. Although his hands weren't skilled when it came to cooking or arts and crafts, they were divine when it came to massages. Strong enough to remove every knot and ache, yet gentle enough for massages to be a pleasant sensation. Makoto may have idiotic strength, when it came to handling his body, he knew just how much he needed to hold back and always treated him with utmost care. Therefore, it was almost sinful how good Makoto's hands felt on his body, regardless of in what context. This was another factor that made him incredibly happy, because it was something only he would ever know about and experience.

That was not to say that Haruka never gave massages himself. Just like it was the other way around, if a particular body part of his lover's hurt, then he was just as willing to return the favour. Never foot massages, though, because those would result into him having a broken nose. Makoto was incredibly ticklish, especially his feet and he was unable to handle his feet being touched like that; brushing against them with Haruka's own feet was fine, but anything beyond that was too much for him to deal with. What he did really love was shoulder and back massages and luckily for him, Haruka loved giving those too - really, any excuse to touch Makoto's back was a good one in Haruka's book. Whenever midterms or finals were coming up and Makoto would spend even more time studying than he usually already did, he would ruin his posture by sitting hunched over for extensive periods of time which obviously resulted into his body becoming sore. Then Haruka would force him to rest by taking off his shirt and making him lie down on his front onto their bed, climbing on top of him to rub the knots away. Unfortunately, Haruka's hands weren't as powerful as Makoto's so in order to make things a little easier and smoother, most of the time he would use lotion or oil to remove the tension from Makoto's muscles - but sometimes he got a little carried away and they would end up doing a whole other type of unwinding. Not that either of them minded.

Once Makoto deemed himself done with warming and rubbing Haruka's right foot, he bent down and kissed each of his toes before he put his foot back underneath the duvet and took his left foot to repeat the process. Shifting his hips so Makoto would have better access, he withdrew his right foot and folded his leg inwards, putting his cup down on the nightstand so he could hold his ankle as he let his eyes feast upon the wonderful sight that was his boyfriend.

His ever-messy brown hair framed his face and fell before his brilliant green eyes, which were softened with the sweet smile that was painted on his features while he stared at Haruka's foot, that was resting on his lap and was able to feel his thigh through the thin cotton of his pajama pants - which he had put back on after coming home. He was so beautiful, from his head to his toes, both inside and out, and suddenly Haruka was overcome with the desire to kiss every last centimeter of his skin. Even that wouldn't be enough to show Makoto just how much he loved him, but then again, nothing could ever suffice. Sometimes he just had to take a step back because he was so astonished with the amount of love his heart held for this man. It shouldn't be surprising since he had felt this way for practically all his life and knew he would continue to feel this way until his death, but there were certain moments in which he truly realised just how much he actually felt for Makoto. Moments like these in which he was just overtaken by pure affection. Loving Makoto just came so naturally to him, like it was always meant to be. If someone would have told him it was possible for a single emotion to be this strong, he wouldn't have believed them if it weren't for the fact that he was experiencing it first-hand. The one thing that made all of this even better was the knowledge that Makoto felt exactly the same, that his love was requited and his affections returned, and that he was actually in a relationship with this gorgeous man, that this beautiful person was his.

Noticing the half-lidded eyes of his lover accompanied by a fond and devoted smile, Makoto ceased caressing Haruka's foot and looked at him with a questioning gaze. "Haru?"

The smile on his face stretched even further, which was an uncommon occurrence but the sensible part of his brain blamed it on his fever. "I love you," he mumbled, and it would have sounded very breathy and sentimental if it weren't for the fact that his voice was deformed by his cold.

Still, the state of his voice didn't matter to Makoto, because he was always able to detect the meaning and emotion Haruka put into his words, especially when it was something like this, something he only voiced when they were alone. "I love you, too," he murmured back, making it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Because it was.

Then he continued with his massage, his thumbs gently pressing in the pad of his foot and rubbing slow circles. The motion was calming and felt so good that Haruka began to feel drowsy again. Along with the warmth of Makoto's skin on his, his full stomach and the fever, it shouldn't take much more to lull Haruka back to sleep and he was only barely still awake, a part of him not wanting to let this moment slip away. Fighting against fatigue, his eyes hardly open as he watched how Makoto finished up his massage by placing a small kiss on every toe of this foot as well.

After his pinky toe was blessed with the touch of Makoto's lips, Makoto withdrew himself and put his foot back underneath the toasty duvet.

"Is there anything else you need?" he asked, willing to provide anything Haruka's heart desired.

Haruka shook his head and thus Makoto got up, taking away one of the pillows that were stacked behind his back and he eased him into a lying position again, drawing the duvet up to Haruka's chin once more.

With a caress of his cheek he whispered, "Sleep well, Haru-chan."

When he was about to walk away and let his lover get the sleep his body oh so needed, a hand on his wrist stopped him.

"Don't go," Haruka pleaded sleepily, "Stay."

Hearing those needy words coming from his stoic lover and seeing the look on his tired face brought a surge of love to Makoto's heart. A small, dreamy sigh left his lips because he was just unable to contain all of the feelings he had for Haruka. There was nothing he'd rather do than stay right here like his boyfriend had requested, but he knew there were things he needed to get done, and procrastinating would only make him more anxious and stressed in the near future.

Torn between what his head knew and what his heart wanted, Makoto weighed down the pros and cons of either option when he was hit with an idea.

"Wait a second, Haru, I'll be right back," Makoto promised and he pried the hand off his wrist.

A tiny pout formed on Haruka's lips at the sight of Makoto leaving the room despite him specifically asking him not to. He didn't known exactly why he hadn't wanted Makoto to leave, but something inside of him had instinctively held him back, like a half-concealed need to have him near acted before his mind registered what he was doing. All he knew was that he didn't mind it per se, because he did want Makoto to stay with him, even though the reasonable part of his brain knew that was a selfish request. And on top of that he was alone again now and he didn't like it one bit. But Makoto had assured that he would come back, so he would have to believe that. And hope that sleep wouldn't take him before that time.

Just as he was about to nod off completely, Makoto re-entered the room, his arms full of books, papers, and his laptop. He dropped them on his half of the bed before he grabbed some spare pillows from the closet and pulled the duvet back, crawling inside. At first this confused Haruka, but then he realised that Makoto was going to do his homework and study while also staying by his side. Killing two birds with one stone.

As Makoto was getting settled, Haruka scooted closer to him, snuggling into his side and wrapping an arm around his belly, glad that he had returned and that he was able to hold him again. He shouldn't have doubted Makoto in the first place, because he knew that if Makoto promised something he would follow through with it.

Trying to best to figure out a way to accommodate Haruka's body while also being able to do his work, it took a while before Makoto found a comfortable position for the both of them.

At last they were both cozy and comfy, and Makoto whispered, "Is that better, Haru-chan?"

"Hm," Haruka hummed, practically asleep already.

"Good." The hundredth kiss was pressed against Haruka's black locks before Makoto pulled back again. "Sweet dreams."

Haruka had already fallen into a deep sleep, comforted by the presence, scent and embrace of his boyfriend.

The day continued like this, with Makoto doing the work he was supposed to while Haruka attempted to sleep off the virus that coursed inside his body.

For dinner they had another portion of Makoto's rice porridge, because Haruka was in no state to make anything else and didn't want Makoto's effort to go to waste - and maybe because he didn't trust Makoto to successfully pull off making two meals in one day without severing a limb or setting the kitchen on fire.

In the evening Makoto shoved his workload aside so they could curl up together in bed and watch some random movies, Haruka sitting in between Makoto's legs and resting against his chest with Makoto's arms wrapped around his midriff, who pressed a kiss every so often against the side of his face or his hair. Neither really registered much of the movies because Haruka was drifting in and out of sleep while Makoto was more focused on and entertained by the endearing sight and feel of his boyfriend than what happened on the screen. But it didn't matter, because all they really cared about was that they were together, holding each other close and being content just like that.

The next morning Haruka felt quite a bit better and despite not having completely recovered yet, his temperature had gone down rather much. Therefore, Makoto didn't think it was necessary for a doctor to be informed and adviced. Still, Makoto thought it would be better for him to take another day off so he would be completely rested and healthy before going back to his busy life. Makoto did the same so he could look after him during the day, and thus Friday was spent with more cuddling and studying every once in a while. Kisses were still off-limits, because Haruka was still full of germs and he couldn't risk infecting Makoto directly.

Although Haruka would have preferred to stay healthy instead of getting a cold, he couldn't deny that it was nice, spending some time with Makoto alone in the tranquility of their apartment without the stress or anxiety of life and society. It was great, because Makoto was usually someone who would never let himself rest, but now that he seemingly got no choice, he could see Makoto relax more as well. When they went back to the rush of their daily lives, they would both have more mental and physical strength to pull through until Christmas break would let them off the hook again.

Maybe getting a cold wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

 **A/N: Needless to say, after Haru's cold was completely gone, they surely made up for the lack of kisses. And of course, Makoto aced his test (though it wasn't as if Haru had expected otherwise.)**

 **39.4 degrees Celsius is about 103 degrees Fahrenheit.**

 **Thank you for reading! :) Ironically enough, I got sick myself while I was writing this fic.**

 **Either way, if you would like to be informed about my writing or if you want to talk with me about MakoHaru you can follow me on Tumblr: .com or on Twitter DatHeetJoella**

 **Thank you so much for everything and I hope you will have a wonderful day! ^^**

 **Hopefully until next time! ^^**


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